


Every Saint Has a Past, And Every Sinner Has a Future

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Porn, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-23 16:19:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19704985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: Aziraphale gives Oscar Wilde a bit of comfort





	Every Saint Has a Past, And Every Sinner Has a Future

Aziraphale lounged in a chair, nursing a drink. Around him, men talked and danced and sometimes disappeared down the hall. He’d been coming here with some regularity for the last few weeks and gotten to know many of the regulars.

Oscar sat down next to him. Aziraphale could see sadness behind the careful expression. Without thinking much of it he reached out and touched his hand, instinctively wanting to comfort.

He knew Oscar was brilliant and brave. But behind the bravado he was still human. Still someone struggling against a society that would deem him a deviant. As if the love he felt for other men was wrong.

Something was on his mind tonight. He turned his gaze to Aziraphale. “We haven’t talked much,” he said.

“No, but that’s quite alright,” said Aziraphale.

Oscar pulled his hand closer and kissed the back of it. “Would you like some company?”

Ordinarily Aziraphale would demur. He’d be in enough trouble with the head office if they knew about his current fraternizing, let alone if he indulged in this most human of carnal desires. But there was something in Oscar’s eyes. He didn’t want to be alone right now and he was seeking comfort in the only way he knew how.

“Yes, I think I would,” said Aziraphale.

Oscar’s smile showed his relief as Aziraphale got to his feet. Without much thought Aziraphale offered him his arm. Oscar took it and they headed down the hallway.

Aziraphale let Oscar pick the room, pushing open the door, then closing and locking it behind them. It was small, containing a bed, a side table, and a window with heavy curtains.

Oscar turned to face Aziraphale, uncertainty on his features.

“I do want this,” said Aziraphale, reaching out again for his hand. “You are a man worthy of love.”

Something shifted in Oscar’s eyes and he looked away. “The world doesn’t see it that way.”

“The world is frequently foolish,” said Aziraphale, moving closer to him.

Oscar drew him into a gentle kiss, then started on his buttons. Aziraphale copied his actions, feeling Oscar begin to relax with the familiar movements of this particular dance.

Aziraphale cupped the back of Oscar’s head and slipped his tongue into his mouth. He moaned and pushed the shirt from Aziraphale’s shoulders.

They quickly shed their clothes and made their way onto the bed. Aziraphale reached for the oil kept conveniently in the bedside table and kissed Oscar yet again as he slicked his fingers and began to tease him.

Tension seeped from Oscar’s body as he gave himself over. Aziraphale’s lips moved slowly down, kissing his throat, his chest, his stomach. Perhaps it was worship, but this man was as much a creation of God as any other, and just as deserving of love and care.

Oscar ran his fingers through Aziraphale’s hair. “You’re not like most men.”

Aziraphale smiled against his hip. “No, I suppose I’m not,” he said, pressing a gentle finger into him.

Oscar spread himself a little wider, encouraging Aziraphale. “I want to feel it,” he murmured.

Aziraphale added a second finger, but still took his time. “I won’t hurt you,” he said gently. Even if it seemed what Oscar himself thought he deserved.

Raising his head, Aziraphale kissed Oscar again and settled between his thighs, still working him open. Oscar started to move with him, taking his own cock in hand.

Aziraphale raised his head and studied Oscar’s face for a moment, then moved down the bed, adding a third finger as he swallowed his cock.

Oscar cried out, hips arching up, swearing blasphemies under his breath. Oscar’s hand dropped to the side, twisting in the bedsheets as Aziraphale took him down to the root.

Aziraphale moaned around him, his lover heavy on his tongue as he bobbed his head. He shivered at the waves of love and pleasure Oscar was giving off.

Finally, Aziraphale raised his head and wiped his mouth. He adjusted Oscar a bit and lined himself up, pressing into him. He thrust slowly at first, giving him time to adjust before resuming his gentle kisses.

Oscar wrapped his arms around Aziraphale as if he were a life preserver in a drowning sea. And perhaps, in this moment, he was.

Aziraphale moved slowly, giving him what he needed, not what he wanted. Oscar clung to him, muffling his cries in Aziraphale’s shoulder. Aziraphale worked a hand between them to stroke him off, barely thinking of his own pleasure.

Oscar stiffened and cried out as he came. Aziraphale worked him through it and then pulled out, rolling to the side and holding Oscar in his arms.

Oscar took a shuddering breath and wiped at his eyes. “Are you… did you…?”

“I’m fine,” said Aziraphale, kissing his damp cheek.

“It’s not usually like this,” muttered Oscar. “Will...may I call on you again?”

“Not like this, no,” said Aziraphale gently. “Once only.”

Oscar nodded, understanding. Plenty of men at these places had similar rules. It kept them from getting too attached. Oscar had no such compunctions, but he was different in many ways. Aziraphale brushed his hair back and kissed Oscar’s throat. 

“You’ll still be here, though, at the club, right?” Oscar’s voice was quietly vulnerable.

“Oh yes. I’ve been learning the gavotte. And I have a bookshop in Soho.”

“I’ll have to pay you a call,” said Oscar. 

“I’d be delighted,” said Aziraphale. He kissed Oscar once more.

Oscar sighed and kissed him back, then pulled away and sat up, reaching for his clothes. “Thank you,” he said, voice rough, not looking at Aziraphale.

Aziraphale nodded. “You’re welcome,” he said, watching Oscar pull back on his clothes and propriety. He waited until he was nearly done before picking up his own clothes.

Oscar leaned in and stole one more kiss, then let himself out. Aziraphale finished dressing and adjusted his clothes in the mirror, quietly praying that Oscar might find peace.

**Author's Note:**

> I noticed the Aziraphale/oscar wilde tag while tagging my other stuff and the idea intrigued me and this just sorta... happened.
> 
> Also Michael Sheen plays Robbie Ross in Wilde if you want to see a good movie.
> 
> You can find me on twitter and tumblr at merindab


End file.
